


When The Snake Falls For The Griffin

by AgentJoanneMills



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, Freeform, Friendship, Romance, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 18:17:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentJoanneMills/pseuds/AgentJoanneMills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: What happens when Helena, a Slytherin, falls for Myka, a Gryffindor?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Assistance

**Author's Note:**

> *All recognizable characters and settings are not mine; they belong to their respective owners and are used here, not for any intention of copyright infringement, but for a bit of fun and adventure.

She stares at the face before her and revels at how lucky she is to be able to do so.

They spent almost all their time together at school exchanging hostile glances and rude words. They even dueled against each other a couple of times, and both received scars and bruises that took a long time to heal. They had been victims of circumstance, forced apart by bloodlines and planted prejudices and dark lords. They had been caught in an elaborate web spun by prophecies and destinies they couldn’t fight against, trapped in a series of events they had no control over, compelled to act out roles already decided for them. They were pawns in a game stained with deceit and blood and murder.

 

Fortunately, all of those are in the past now.

****

She’s supposed to hate Myka Bering.

She’s a Gryffindor. That alone should be enough to detest her.

She’s also a Mudblood’s daughter who had beaten her several times at Quidditch.

So why couldn’t Helena find it in herself to hate her?

****

She remembers the first time she met Myka, during the train ride to Hogwarts at the beginning of their first year. Helena was with Wolcott and Crowley in their compartment when they had gotten news that Myka Bering – the only one to ever survive Voldemort’s Killing Curse – was also on board.

Helena did the only logical thing to do. She sought her out.

She found her in the company of Claudia Donovan and Pete Lattimer. How distasteful.

The Donovans are one of the few remaining Pureblood families in the wizarding world; they are, however, also one of the poorest of all families (Pureblood or otherwise), and they have nauseating concern for Muggles.

And Pete Lattimer… well. Helena had heard about him from her father. A Mudblood, invited to study at Hogwarts because of “notable” innate magical abilities despite Muggle parentage. Huh.

Someone with a lineage as influential as Helena’s would never mingle with people like them.

 

They were all huddled close when she arrived at their booth (Are they best friends already this early in the game?), with the girl at the middle she could only assume was Bering hunched over a thick volume of _Hogwarts: A History_.

Helena stood by their door with her arms crossed. She cleared her throat pointedly, and Lattimer and Donovan immediately turned to her.

“Helena Wells,” Donovan muttered darkly.

“Hello there.” She glanced at Claudia balefully. “You’re a Donovan, are you not? With that ridiculous red hair and obvious hand-me-down clothes, it’s hard not to tell.”

She smirked at the girl’s gasp of irritation.

“Hey hey hey,” Lattimer spoke up, “that’s uncalled for, lady.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes and didn’t dignify him with an answer. He appeared to have sensed that she was scrutinizing him, and he shifted uncomfortably, lowering his gaze.

The Book-Reader seemed to feel her new friends’ discomfort, for she closed the thick volume and calmly folded her hands on top of it, perched as it was on her lap. She stole a quick look at Claudia, whose face was now almost the same shade as her hair, and at Pete, who was glaring a bit sulkily at the window. She then focused on the door, which appeared to be where their distress came from. She hummed a bit when she saw Helena, as if she just had become aware of her presence.

She cocked her head, and said, “I’m sorry, but could we do something for you?”

The moment she spoke was the moment Helena actually _looked_ at her for the first time. She was planning on some witty, perhaps even inappropriate reply, but it died somewhere in her throat.

She had never seen such brilliant green eyes; even though they were behind a crappy pair of glasses… her eyes coolly stared at her, silently gauging, but not judging. They were shadowed with long lashes, and her brows were raised ever so slightly. Her skin was pale, but not overly so, and it seemed enticing to the touch. She had strong cheekbones, and her face – flushed a bit because of the cold – was framed by a wild set of curly hair that partially hid the renowned lightning-shaped scar.

Helena had heard a great deal about Myka Bering – a remarkable number of books and articles had been written about her, and one would be hard-pressed to find a soul in the wizarding community who does not know of her. But all those materials were based on stories and accounts set eleven years ago, when Voldemort failed to kill her as a baby and had gone into hiding (Helena’s father was certain that the Dark Lord still lives). No one knew exactly how she looked like; there were no details, save for the scar left by the Killing Curse.

As she gazed at her, Helena realized that she had never before seen such beauty.

 

That was the moment her life changed forever.

****

Their fourth year at Hogwarts heralded the beginning of one of the most wonderful chapters of Helena Wells’ life.

Christmas was drawing near, and Helena wanted to give Myka something this year. She didn’t know where _exactly_ this feeling came from (maybe it’s because Myka’s got a very high chance at dying, what with being a Triwizard Tournament champion), but she certainly wanted to follow it through. Helena knew as well as everyone else that Myka loves reading, so she decided that the gift would be a book. And being given to a witch her caliber, it’s not going to be just any book. She had an idea on what to do with the book to make it spectacular.

The only problem was that she had no idea on what the book itself would be.

And so she was _very_ grateful (she’d never admit this) when Lattimer and Donovan offered their help.

“Why would you ever help me?” she asked suspiciously (it’s hard not to be suspicious, especially with people who were supposed to be your enemies), alone with them and another Gryffindor – Steven Jinks, she recalled the name – in an empty classroom.

Lattimer replied, “Wells. You _do_ want to give Mykes a great present, don’t you?”

“I don’t!” Helena was embarrassed, being questioned like that. It’s not as if she wanted to please Myka. No. She just wanted to be at least civil with her because… uh, one should keep one’s enemy close, right? That’s it. Helena should be able to monitor Myka closely, be able to glean whatever runs in that head of hers, be able to know exactly when to attack her… Yes. That’s it. At least that’s what Helena had been telling herself…

“She’s lying,” Jinks piped up.

“What? H-How did you---” Helena sputtered.

“Steve could always tell when anyone’s lying,” Donovan explained. “And you just proved that he’s right, so don’t even deny it.”

Helena could feel her cheeks redden. What the hell. The rumors were true: there’s a breathing lie detector in their school. How’s she supposed to escape this now? “Bloody gits.”

Jinks was looking at her intently and noticed her blush. “You fancy Myka,” he stated simply, understanding dawning on his face.

She looked at him sharply, that simple statement leaving her breathless.

“Oh, Jinksy, don’t be ridiculous, there’s no way she’d…” Lattimer trailed off, and gawked at her.

Donovan stared at Jinks, then at Lattimer, then at Helena, and back again.

They all noticed her stiff posture, her fisted hands, how she’s avoiding eye contact…

“Bloody hell, you do?!” Lattimer and Donovan simultaneously exclaimed.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no sound came.

She couldn’t find it in herself to contradict them.

“Oh dear, you really do. You like Myka,” Donovan whispered in awe.

Helena winced, ducking her head to hide her discomfort. “Shut up.” She fiddled with her necklace. “It’s… it’s nothing… at all…”

“And you’re also lying to yourself. That won’t work, you know,” Jinks murmured. It was not unkindly, but Helena still glared at him, more as a defense mechanism than anything else.

“Just… do not ever say anything about this to anyone, you hear? Especially to… her.” She ground out.

They all just wordlessly nodded in assent.

“Wow… I can’t believe I’m saying this… but it’s actually kind of hot,” Lattimer said, after a few seconds of tense silence.

Helena wrinkled her brows at that, but the other two just sighed in exasperation. “Not now, Pete,” Donovan admonished him.

“What? I’m just telling the truth here. You’ve got to admit you think it’s kind of hot too. I mean, it’s like all their quarrels and fights were all part of a years-long foreplay.”

Donovan elbowed him hard on his chest while Jinks groaned, hiding his face with his hands.

“Ow!”

Helena, however, was just standing there, regarding them with a seriously confused expression, her blush creeping down her neck.

“Don’t mind him. We don’t,” Jinks advised.

“That’s a bit of a challenge, given that he says such things without the slightest inhibition,” Helena grumbled.

“Yeah, well, I suggest you get used to it, then. We’re all going to work together for this little task for some time.”

Helena was about to protest, but she didn’t really have the energy to do so.

 

She sighed.  _This is going to be one hell of a ride_.


	2. Sneak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena gives voice to what she's feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *All recognizable characters and settings are not mine; they belong to their respective owners and are used here, not for any intention of copyright infringement, but for a bit of fun and adventure.  
> **The events do not chronologically coincide with those in HP. But, well, they are mostly set during the Triwizard Tournament.

With their assistance, Helena discovered Myka’s fascination with an author named H.G. Wells. And she’s pretty sure that Myka was not aware that H.G. Wells was, in fact, Helena’s great-grandfather (she ordered the three Gryffindors not to mention _that_ to her). It was safe to assume then, that Myka also knew nothing about Helena’s extensive resources on him.

Helena decided on which book to use. She asked her mother to send over the original manuscript of _The Time Machine_ (it was her personal favorite, and she hoped the significance could be communicated to Myka… Merlin’s beard, did she really just _think_ that? She’s such a teenager!), and Helena was thankful that she did so without raising a fuss (if her father caught drift of this, Helena’s not going to hear the end of it). Next she prepared enchanting it so that it would project the images her great-grandfather envisioned in every page as he wrote them. She even added an extra feature, so that when activated, H.G. Wells’ voice could provide his commentary on every scene in the book; it would be like having a sit-down chat with the author.

It’s a particularly tricky enchantment, and Helena had to consult a lot of books just to perfect it. _That_ also proved to be problematic. Myka practically lived in the library, so sneaking books without bumping into her and risking interrogation (i.e. _What are you up to now, Helena? Finally realized that school is for learning and not bullying?_ Or, _Are you studying new hexes to use on me and my friends?_ Or, _Worried about your O.W.L.s now, aren’t you? You should be; the only one you’d pass would be Potions, being Snape’s favorite._ Or some other variations. Does the lady ever let up? Helena had to use all of her self-control not to shout “They’re for your gift, idiot!”) was a very tall order. Add to that all the lies she had to make up to get away from Wolcott and Crowley (having goons is cool, but it’s also very tiring). Slinking around the school with the three Gryffindors without creating suspicion from those around them was another hurdle. It was a good thing Myka was so busy thinking through the second task; she hardly noticed her friends’ odd behavior (Helena required to meet them at odd hours).

It was a great relief when they were permitted to use the Prefect’s Bathroom. Joshua Donovan, Claudia’s older brother, was a prefect, and at her sister’s insistence, allowed them to use it as a meeting place to practice the enchantments.

 

Huh. When did her life become so complicated?

*

The Yule Ball will be in a couple of weeks, and Helena still had no one to go there with. Many had asked her, of course; she’s admittedly one of the most sought after girls in their year. She lost count of how many offers from all three schools she had turned down.

“You declined another offer again,” Wolcott said.

“Yes, I just obviously did,” she muttered.

“Why? At this rate you’ll be attending the dance with no one,” commented Crowley.

“Don’t be ridiculous. A Wells does not go to dances alone.” _But I am seriously considering not going at all_.

“Then who are you coming with?”

The truth was Helena really hadn’t come up with any plans. No one seemed to be the right choice. She didn’t know who she wanted to be with her at the ball.

Well… that’s a lie. She had known for ages who she wished to be her partner.

But she had no courage to ask. How could she, a girl, ask another girl to a ball? That’s just ridiculous. Not to mention scandalous, and should her father learn of it... Oh, how she shuddered for the hell she would have been given. And also, she’s not entirely sure if it was even kosher for students to attend such events with the same sex.

“Hey, Helena!” she heard Wolcott. It sounded as if it wasn’t the first time he called her name.

“What?” she snapped to hide her unease at being caught lagging off.

“We asked you who you’re going to come with.”

Helena turned to them and gave them her fiercest glower. “And you have business pressing me for information, don’t you?”

The two visibly blanched in the face of her fury, and before they could recover and stutter some apology, Helena walked away.

*

One week before the ball Helena found herself in the Prefect’s Bathroom again with the three. They were discussing details of the event and how Helena should present her gift when she learned that Myka’s already going with someone else.

“Who’s she coming with?” Helena minced the words, trying very hard not to grimace.

“We don’t know, she isn’t telling anyone!” Donovan whined.

“She’s being extra secretive about it,” Lattimer added.

“And she’s avoiding me so I couldn’t call her on her lies,” said a frustrated Jinks.

She released a long breath. “Well, it seems like I’m in a bit of a quandary.”

“Why is that?”  Lattimer asked.

She remained quiet. Jinks studied her for a beat, and as he was inclined to do, read her as if she was an open book. “You’re not just interested in knowing who she’s coming with.” The “ _You wanted her to attend the ball with you yourself, don’t you?”_ remained unsaid, but Helena heard it nevertheless.

She chuckled darkly, shaking her head. “Is there even a point in answering that?”

Lattimer seemed to comprehend what they were talking about. He asked, “So the rumors are true then?”

She snapped her eyes up. “What rumors?” Did the school know her secret desires already?

He held his hands up, as if warding off an attack. “Just that you haven’t accepted any invitations to the ball. They say you’re most likely going alone.”

She exhaled slowly. “That’s true.”

“Woah. Wh-why haven’t you accepted the offers?” Donovan asked incredulously. She’s not grasping the whole situation, apparently.

She flashed a look of annoyance. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

It was Lattimer who enlightened the red-head. “She wants Myka to be her partner.”

Silence.

Donovan gaped at her. If she weren’t so miserable Helena would have called her on it.

“Is that so surprising?” Helena drawled. “Bear in mind, I’m putting up with spending time with you, Gryffindors, my House’s sworn enemies, so that I could give the girl a wonderful present. I’m expending considerable energy refraining from hexing you just for the hell of it because one, you’re her friends and two – remember this ‘cause I’m not saying it again – your aid is necessary. And I basically admitted to you idiots all those weeks ago that I _like_ her. And now, I’m pretty sure I’m about three glances away from falling in love with her. So surely my efforts should mean something?”

* * *

They were all so wound up in their conversation that they didn’t notice the door opening and closing, an invisible force seeming to direct its movements.

* * *


	3. Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the Yule Ball had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *All recognizable characters and settings are not mine; they belong to their respective owners and are used here, not for any intention of copyright infringement, but for a bit of fun and adventure.

The four of them formulated a plan. Helena’s not ecstatic about it, but at least she wouldn’t have to suffer through hours with some ogling male by her side. She remembered the intense planning that ensued after her confession…

“You should go with Jinksy,” Donovan suggested.

“What?” Helena was dubious of the red-head’s psychological health.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Lattimer agreed.

“You two are mental.”

“Actually,” Jinks said, “make that three. I believe I see sense in this plan.”

“Well, I don’t!” Helena exclaimed. “Why would I ever attend a ball with a Gryffindor, of all things?!”

“Hey. I’m from a Pureblood family, and if I’m not mistaken that’s what matters to Slytherins, yes?”

“That’s not the point! You’re… you’re…”

“Yes, we’re Gryffindors. You’ve pointed that out like a million times. No need to treat it as a curse word,” Donovan said.

Helena bit back her tongue to not say that it _was_ pretty close to a curse word.

“The thing is,” Lattimer began carefully when she didn’t respond, “Steve here is not into girls.”

Helena tilted her head questioningly.

“And,” he continued, “you’re not into boys, so…”

“No harm done, right?” Jinks finished.

Helena blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

“You,” Helena breathed, “you’re _gay_?”

Jinks just smiled.

“Do people know?”

“Yes. I mean, they’re all actually kind of supportive about it.”

“How… how about in your dormitories?”

“Hey, it’s not as if I want every guy I see, you know,” Jinks replied, catching her point. “So they all are alright with that. And as I’m sure you’re aware of, there’s only ever one person to really stir such desire within us.”

Helena didn’t know how to answer to that, so she just nodded meekly.

“So, you could just tell your Slytherin minions to shut their gob. Say Steve’s a decent enough fellow that you could easily order around without complications,” Donovan proposed.

Jinks looked at her. “And _you_ could carry on talking like that as if I’m not here.”

“Just do it, Jinksy.”

“ _Fine_ ,” he relented. “The things I do for my friends.”

Helena was surprised, to say the least. These people were helping her unconditionally, without asking for anything in return. And she was just beginning to realize how good it felt. “Why?”

“Why what?” Lattimer asked.

“All of this… all the trouble of dealing with me… why help me at all? I made your life miserable for the past three years and yet…”

“That’s how we are wired,” Donovan replied. “Holding grudges are not really our thing.”

“And I can’t detect any untruth from you, so…” Jinks just shrugged.

“Also, I don’t get bad vibes from you,” added Lattimer.

Helena smirked, but it was more amused and hopeful than condescending. “You are fools,” she said, but she didn’t mean it.

They knew that she didn’t mean it.

* * *

The night of the Yule Ball had arrived.

After dodging questions and ignoring disbelieving glances, she led Steve (the three forced her to call them by their names now, no matter how silly the idea was) to the Great Hall, joining the rest of the student body. They were all waiting apprehensively for the arrival of the champions and their partners, but none was as nervous as Helena.

“Hey, deep breaths,” Steve leaned in to whisper to her.

“Easy for you to say.”

“Well…”

“Oh, do shut up.”

Just then, the first notes of the waltz sounded, and the doors opened to reveal eight people. They were all dressed very well, and all were admittedly good-looking.

Helena’s eyes, however, were focused on only one person.

 _Myka_.

She was wearing a dress of light, shimmering periwinkle material. Her shoulders were bare, accentuating the slender column of her throat. Her gloves stick to her supple arms like second skin. She was standing lithe and graceful; the heavy weight of books was taken off her figure, and her curly mane was toned down into lovely, lazy waves. She’s not wearing any glasses.

Her smile was as radiant as the morning sun.

And beside her was a guy from Hufflepuff. Sam Martino, Helena’s mind summoned up the name.

Her grip on Steve’s arm tightened, jealousy flaring up in her chest. She could feel Steve’s gaze, but thankfully, he said nothing. He just patted her hand comfortingly.

Pete approached them, with Claudia in tow, as the champions started the first dance. “Well, can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Sam’s always expressed fascination with Myka.”

Helena snorted. It was very unladylike to do so, but she didn’t care. “Fascination? What is she, a pet?” She couldn’t keep the venom from her voice.

Surprisingly (or not), her companions lauded her sentiment.

Pete glanced at the dance floor (whereas Helena avoided landing her eyes there), noticing Myka twirling charmingly in Sam’s arms. “She’s so… girly. That’s not her,” he remarked, almost amused.

Helena felt irritation simmering under the surface. What’s he doing, finding amusement in the face of her predicament?

Claudia noted the growing tension in their little bubble, and acted quickly to diffuse it. “Okay. Guys. Let’s just, let our hair down a bit. Helena, dance with Steve. Act natural. Oblivious. Or apathetic – you’re quite good at that. Pete, dance with me and do _not_ step on my toes.”

She tapped Helena’s shoulder gently. “It won’t do to sulk in here the rest of the night.” She chanced a peek at Myka, and seemed, unexpectedly to Helena, satisfied with what she saw. “And just don’t mind who she’s dancing with. That’s not… _her_.”

Helena made to ask what she meant but Steve tugged her and she had no choice but to follow.

Putting her arms around Steve’s neck, she asked, “What did Claudia mean?”

He chuckled lowly. “We know Myka. That face she’s putting up is, as Claudia said, not her. She’s not giggly or girly or silly like the others. That’s just a mask. She’s too nice to be impolite and head on show Sam that she’s not having a good time.”

Steve twirled her so that she could view Myka. “See how her neck’s angled infinitesimally to the left?”

Helena narrowed her eyes and observed; it was a bit tricky, since she also had to make sure she’s not caught staring. “Yes. What about it?”

“That’s a surefire signal that she’s bored. Or pissed.”

“It is?” Helena queried. And there’s definitely hope in her voice.

“Uh-huh. If she’s having a good time, her neck would be more swan-like, angling upwards.”

Helena absorbed that information in wonderment. “You definitely know your friends.”

“Of course. Another example that I do: when you are sad and you don’t want anyone to notice, your lips part ever so slightly and they curl into a mini-smirk. But when you’re happy your eyes get all glimmery and your voice gets this unique timbre.”

At that she stilled. “Friends? I… I---”

“Save it, Helena. You know it’s true.”

She gulped a bit, awed by Steve’s level-headed statement of facts. “I just… never had real friends, like this, before.”

“Oh, I know. What you do have are underlings,” Steve teased, hoping to ease her anxiety.

Helena smiled gratefully. “Hey, it’s not as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Yeah, yeah. Having other people do your dirty work. You’re living the life.”

*

They sat down after the third song, both of them drenched in sweat. Claudia and Pete met up with them, also sweaty and breathing heavily.

The four of them were all slumped down in a table by the corner of the hall, out of everyone’s way. Lots were throwing curious glances at Helena and she could hear them murmuring, but she didn’t care.

She was having a good time.

It was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

“Hey,” Pete said, “what happened to your gift, anyway?”

Helena, who had closed her eyes, popped one open. “Hmm?”

“Don’t tell us you’ve left it!” Claudia exclaimed, eyes going wide, alarmed.

“She’s messing with you, Claude,” said Steve.

Helena shook with silent laughter. “If you had seen your face…”

“You---!” Claudia tried to glare at her, but even she was sniggering.

Helena burst with laughter for real, giving up any attempts of holding her mirth in.

At seeing her let loose like that, her companions joined in.

 

Just then, they heard a throat being cleared beside them.

“Having fun?” Myka asked, arms crossed, her green eyes glittering with unasked questions.


	4. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything that wasn’t Helena faded into the background of Myka’s mind. She’s aware on some shallow level that her friends were there with them, but in that moment, when green met brown, everything was in suspended animation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *All recognizable characters and settings are not mine; they belong to their respective owners and are used here, not for any intention of copyright infringement, but for a bit of fun and adventure.

She saw them mingling. She smiled a secret smile.

When she entered the Great Hall with Sam, her eyes zeroed in one person and one alone.

 _Helena_. She looked so lovely in her black dress, the fabric interspersed with green and silver threads. Her hair was free of any confinements, falling like an ink waterfall over her shoulders. Her eyes were sparkling like onyxes, and her pink lips were parted in an almost rueful moue.  

Myka took note of the whole of Helena in under a heartbeat. Before those dark eyes met hers, she shifted her gaze.

She danced with Sam, turning on whatever false charm she could muster. It wouldn’t do to be rude to him. He’s a nice guy, after all.

But Myka’s not interested in _nice_. It’s too safe, too predictable. Too boring.

Myka wanted spice. She wanted to sizzle with desire, just as described in the novels she’d read as a child. She wanted darkness and allure and mystery and secrets and charm and arrogance and roughness.

And everything she wanted happened to be embodied in the person dancing with her friend a few feet away.

 

Yes. She _yearned_ for Helena Wells.

*

When the third song ended, she noticed her friends and Helena making their way to a relatively secluded area in the corner of the room. They looked beat out, but relaxed and happy.

Who would have thought that Helena could be relaxed around Gryffindors?

Apparently, a lot of people were wondering about the same thing. Myka was aware of the hushed whispers, of the dubious glances at Helena. She knew that Helena was aware of them too, but she didn’t appear to care.

Myka smirked. _This is going to be so much fun_.

She told Sam that she needed a break and that she’d just go say hello to her friends. He seemed reluctant to let her go, but relented in the end.

She made her way to them quickly and quietly.

They were all laughing when she reached them, Helena loudest of all. The sound resonated deep within Myka’s soul, and she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. She wanted to reach out and pull Helena up in an embrace, but…

 _Deep breath, Myka_. _Act the part_.

Though it was a bit heartbreaking to ruin their perfectly peaceful moment, Myka needed to do so. She’s here on a mission, and she’s going to accomplish it.

So she crossed her arms (so as to stop herself from grabbing Helena) and pointedly cleared her throat.

“Having fun?”

*

 _Oh dear_. How lovely it would have been if she had a camera to capture this moment. The look on their faces was just priceless.

Helena, Steve, Claudia and Pete all froze, eyes trained on Myka.

“What exactly is happening here?” Myka pinned them down with a questioning glare that left the other three almost trembling with fear. Helena, however (being Helena), just met her eyes calmly, albeit nervously.  

“Hu-hullo, Mykes,” Pete mumbled timidly.

“Uh… hi,” Claudia burbled.

“We… uhm,” Steve struggled to say something.

Myka held up a hand to stop whatever lies they could come up with.

“What are you doing with a snake in your midst?”

Helena (having gotten over her nerves – she _is_ Helena after all) scoffed at that. “A snake?”

“Yes! You’re a slithering snake! What have you over my friends for them to _socialize_ with you?”

After a beat, Helena’s lips curled up in a saucy smirk. “A slithering snake, eh?” she mused. “I have to admit, Bering, I kind of like that metaphor.”

Myka noticeably faltered at that. She wasn’t expecting such an answer.

Helena took advantage of her surprise. “Tell me, do you always describe people that way? You have to be careful, if that’s the case. ‘Cause, I assure you, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think there’s some hidden innuendo in there.”

Helena picked up a glass of juice, took a sip, and licked her lips. Myka’s eyes instinctively followed the movement, and the sight made her gulp. Those lips again tug in a knowing smile, and with a jolt, Myka forced herself to meet Helena’s eyes.

They were dark like chocolate.

They were warm like butterbeer.

They were liquid lust.

Myka almost couldn’t hold back the moan those eyes elicited.

Oh dear. They weren’t even _touching_!

Suddenly, the thought of being alone with Helena and touching her invaded Myka’s brain.

Everything that wasn’t _Helena_ faded into the background of Myka’s mind. She’s aware on some shallow level that her friends were there with them, but in that moment, when green met brown, everything was in suspended animation.

Myka finally understood the feeling of time standing still.

They stared at each other like that for what feels like forever – too much but not enough. Then a voice broke the spell.

“Myka, care to dance again?” Sam’s voice rang out.

She saw Helena tense up, and Myka did too.

She took a deep breath, and plastered a smile on her face. “Oh, Sam, I’m sorry, but I’d just get some fresh air. Go mingle.” Myka’s tone was most definitely dismissive. Without waiting for his reply, and not caring if she’s being bad-mannered, Myka grasped Helena’s arm and all but hauled her away and out the Great Hall.

*

Myka led Helena up a series of stairs and twisting corridors and hidden halls. Helena wasn’t sure if Myka knew where they were going, but she couldn’t find the strength to ask her. She’s not even sure she could articulate a simple phrase at this rate. All she was sure of was Myka’s tight grip on her arm, her long purposeful strides, the sway of her hair.

In this moment, Myka was Helena’s tether to the world.

*

Finally, after who-knows-how-many-minutes, Myka stopped. They were in a balcony of the north tower, on the way to Trelawney’s room. The area was deserted, and all that could be heard were their combined ragged breathing and the rustling of the cold December winds.

Myka let go of her and the loss of contact chilled Helena.

“Myka…” Helena said, hesitantly. (When did she become so unsure of herself?)

Myka tensed, and her shoulders shook, and she released a broken gasp.

Helena was confused, and admittedly afraid. _What now_?

“Are… are you crying?” Helena tentatively put a hand on Myka’s shoulder, and when she didn’t pull away, Helena turned her.

She wasn’t crying.

Myka Bering was shaking with laughter.

At seeing Helena’s baffled face, she almost doubled over.

She remained like that, muttering incoherent sentences for minutes. Helena was only able to catch words such as _epic_ , _priceless_ , _stupid_ , _idiots_ , _camera_ , but she couldn’t make sense of them, or how they belong to the same string of thought.

When Myka’s laughter finally subsided, Helena was already sitting on the floor, not minding that she’s wearing a dress.

“Quite done, now?” Helena asked drolly.

Myka wiped away a tear at the corner of her eye. “Yes, yes. I’m sorry.” She sat down beside Helena.

“You’re going to ruin your dress.”

“Right back at you.”

Helena leaned back, clucking. “Just… what was that about?”

“What?”

“The laughing bout. And before that, your abducting me.”

Myka gaped at her. “That could hardly be called abduction!”

“I beg to differ.”

“You are a consenting adult. Consenting adults don’t get kidnapped.”

“I barely had time to process the fact that you’re manhandling me, so I wouldn’t call that _consenting_.”

“You have a knack for referring to situations in the worst names they could carry.”

“It’s a gift.”

“Or a curse.”

Helena hummed in response, not finding the right words.

“So…” Myka began.

“Hmm?”

“What now?”

Helena cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose you’re forgetting, but _you_ were the one who hauled me here. I should be the one asking you that question.”

Myka smiled at her then, and it almost blinded Helena.

“I reckon you’re right.”

Myka wrung her fingers together, and she almost looked as nervous as Helena felt. She closed her eyes and seemed to focus, and when she opened them, she asked, “If I tell you the truth, do you promise not to laugh?”

Helena looked at her askance. This was not the same Myka who confronted her friends earlier.

Helena opted always for snark when confronted with uncertainty. “Since when do I care about laughing at you? And since when do you care that I laugh at you?”

“Still playing that card, then?” Myka sighed. “Well,” she waited until Helena met her eyes.

She squared her shoulders. “Maybe since the day you admitted to my friends that you’re _about three glances away from falling in love_ with me.”


	5. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stayed like that for long sweet minutes, and Myka wanted to stretch them out like taffies and just curl up with Helena forever. All thoughts of Golden Eggs and competitions and a rising Dark Lord were chased from her mind, replaced with this moment of perfect clarity.
> 
> Myka felt invincible when she’s with Helena.
> 
> She didn’t know that Helena felt the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *All recognizable characters and settings are not mine; they belong to their respective owners and are used here, not for any intention of copyright infringement, but for a bit of fun and adventure.  
> **Events do not necessarily follow the chronology of HP. Just saying.

“You…” Helena was wide-eyed.

Myka chuckled. Feeling bold, she reached out and tucked a tendril of Helena’s hair behind her ear. She was glad when Helena didn’t pull away. “I was there, in the Prefect’s Bathroom.” At Helena’s skeptical look, she shrugged. “I own an Invisibility Cloak.”

“How did I not notice you sneaking in? Even with the cloak I should have seen it when you opened the door or something!”

“You were all talking so intently.”

Helena groaned. “That’s not how I was planning my confession!”

Myka’s grin deepened as she looked at Helena, who was burying her face on her knees, her arms wound tightly around her legs.

“Hey, don’t mind that too much,” Myka stroked her hair gently. Her breath caught in her throat when Helena leaned into the touch.

“You and your friends say stuff like that so easily,” Helena’s voice was muffled.

Myka patiently let Helena stew over this. If the roles were reversed, she’s sure she would’ve felt the same way, after all.

After several minutes of rather companionable silence, Helena finally lifted her head. She wore a determined, though resigned, expression. “So I suppose you know about the book?”

Now it was Myka who was confused. “Book?”

“My gift.”

“A book? You’re giving me a book?”

Helena shifted so that she’s fully facing Myka. “You didn’t know?”

“I knew you were supposed to give me a gift or something… but I didn’t know it was a book!”

Helena pursed her lips. “I guess it’s out now.”

Myka’s eyes were twinkling like starlight like they always did when discussing books. It was with great effort that Helena tore her gaze away from the lady. She reached for a hidden pocket in her dress’s skirt and pulled out a small square packet. Slipping out her wand, Helena pointed its tip on the packet and uttered, “ _Engorgio_.”

The packet immediately enlarged, till it became roughly the size of a Muggle encyclopedia. Helena handed it to Myka. “Merry Christmas.”

Smiling so brightly, Myka gingerly peeled out the packet. She gasped when she saw what’s beneath it.

“ _The Time Machine_ ,” she breathed, tracing the title so reverently.

Helena watched her, entranced. She followed the path of Myka’s fingers as they run along the book’s spine, shuddering when an image of Myka doing the same to _Helena_ ’s own entered her mind.

“Thank you.”

“My…” _Pleasure_. Oh, no, not now. Helena swallowed thickly. “You’re welcome.”

“Did they…”

Helena nodded. “Your friends told me you’re quite taken with the works of H.G. Wells.”

Myka beamed at her, “Yes.” She shook her head, as if remembering an absurdity. “I always found it intriguing that you share his initials, you know.”

Helena smirked. “That’s not surprising, given that I was named after him.”

At that Myka stared at her in disbelief. “What? He’s a Muggle!”

“He’s not.”

“I don’t believe you. I did a research on him and I couldn’t find anything on him in the wizarding world.”

“Yes. That’s true. It was because he was erased from all wizarding records.”

“What?”

“H.G. Wells was a Pureblood. But he grew up empathizing with Muggles so much that he chose to use his brains in their world and publish his books there. He even fell in love with a Muggle.” Helena shrugged. “When such things happen, the Pureblood’s parents could choose to exile their child and erase all records of him here.”

“So…”

“He was my great-grandfather. He had a child with another Pureblood – that was my grandmother – before his exile. I suppose he just wanted to give his parents one last gift, for continuing the bloodline and all that.”

“Wow… Maybe that’s why his books were all so…”

“Otherworldly?” Helena supplied.

“Otherworldly.” Myka agreed.

After a beat, Helena said, “That copy was the original manuscript.” She turned and smiled at Myka’s gasp. “My father had hidden such documents – he believes his grandfather was a glaring disgrace to our name –, but I stumbled upon them when I was a child. Made my mother hide them for me. And that particular book had always been my favorite.”

Myka clutched the book to her chest, realizing how significant this moment and everything in this moment were. Tears stung her eyes, faced with Helena’s honesty and care.

“Anyway, when I learned that he’s your favorite author, I sent for that copy. And enchanted it.”

“Enchanted it?”

“Yes,” Helena said. “Why else would I need those friends of yours for such an indeterminate amount of time? I had to find books in the library without risking your finding out. And I needed a safe place for practice…” Helena trailed off when she heard Myka sniff. “What now?”

“It’s just… thank you.” She whispered. “Th-this is all too much… you… you exerted so much effort…”

Helena’s eyes softened. “Ssshhh. It’s okay.” She lifted her hand as if to sling it around Myka, but hesitated, leaving it hanging mid-air.

Myka sensed Helena’s want of proximity. She decided to make it easier for her. “Seriously, what does one have to do to be cuddled?”

Helena’s breath caught at that, and smiling sheepishly, she inched closer to Myka so that they were touching and slung her arm around her. She laid her head on Myka’s shoulder.

Myka pressed her cheek on top of Helena’s head. _Finally_.

They stayed like that for long sweet minutes, and Myka wanted to stretch them out like taffies and just curl up with Helena forever. All thoughts of Golden Eggs and competitions and a rising Dark Lord were chased from her mind, replaced with this moment of perfect clarity.

Myka felt invincible when she’s with Helena.

She didn’t know that Helena felt the same way.

Mindful of breaking the silence that settled between them, Myka whispered, “So, how did the enchantments work?”

“Images that H.G. Wells himself envisioned while he wrote the book would be projected. And you could also listen to his commentary on the events in the book.”

Myka turned Helena so abruptly in her arms that the latter felt a bit of vertigo.

“Say what?!” She forgot about keeping quiet. Oh dear, she could see the book through H.G. Wells’ eyes and he could hear his thoughts on the subject? This was a dream come true!

“You heard me,” Helena said, a bit grumpily at being unceremoniously dislodged from her position.

“Wha-How---”

“It could only work on originals, because the authors would have left lots of imprints on them.”

Myka breathed deeply. _This_ was the perfect gift. She lifted it again to her chest, as if summoning strength from it. Then she carefully covered the book with its packet, and getting her own wand, uttered, “ _Diminuendo_.” She hid the gift in a pocket hidden by her pleats.

She then turned to Helena.

“Thank you.”

“You already told me that.”

“It bears repeating.”

Helena just playfully rolled her eyes.

“I have not prepared any exciting gift for you…”

“You don’t have to.”

“…but I suppose I could give you something.”

Helena sighed, exasperated. “Myka, I told you, it’s nothing, just---”

The rest of her sentence was lost when Myka’s soft lips pressed onto hers.


	6. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kiss was not what Helena had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *All recognizable characters and settings are not mine; they belong to their respective owners and are used here, not for any intention of copyright infringement, but for a bit of fun and adventure.  
> **Events do not necessarily follow the chronology of HP. Just saying.

“Dudes… did you notice it?” Claudia asked no one in particular, when Myka and Helena were out the Great Hall. She was gawking at the path the two had taken, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

“Are you referring to what I think you’re referring to?” Pete said, dumbfounded.

“I think so.” Claudia turned to Pete and Steve. “I… Wow.”

Steve nodded. “They could have eaten each other alive right then and there.”

Claudia’s eyes got even bigger at that. “Yuck, dude, I did _not_ need that image!” she exclaimed disbelievingly.

“I wasn’t referring to… Merlin’s beard, Claudia, now my mind’s… Oh dear.” Steve shook his head.

“Children.” Pete smirked at them. “It _is_ hot, actually.”

“Get your brain out of your pants, Pete!” said Claudia.

“What? I mean, did you see the smolder? It’s like, _I could take you on here but then they’d all see and I want everything to be priv_ \--”

“What are you all talking about?” Sam asked, cutting Pete off. They forgot that he was there.

He noticed their almost sympathetic looks. “What?” he asked again, tensing up.

“It’s cool, bro,” said Pete, clapping him on his shoulder, “Not your fault.”

“Yeah, Myka wouldn’t hurt you intentionally,” added Claudia.

“What do you mean? Hurt me how?”

Steve sighed. “You just have to wait for her to tell you, okay?”

“What... I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Sam started walking to the doors.

“Hey,” Pete grabbed his arm, “where are you going?”

He shook him off. “Following them, of course! You were all talking about _smolders_ and stuff, and she’s with H.G. Wells! What if they duel or something? And you said something about ‘eating each other alive’ so I don’t understand why you aren’t going after them!” Sam’s agitation was evident.

He was not prepared when all he got as answer were the three’s barely-suppressed laughter. He heard them sputter phrases like _oh gosh totally different interpretation_ , _there’s gonna be lots of eating but not the kind you think_ , _poor kid_ , _too blinded to see what’s in front of him_ … but he couldn’t grasp what they were really trying to say.

Indignant, he said, “And you’re finding all of this funny, do you? Well, then, I really should look for them myself. Myka could be nursing an injury right now and you don’t even care!” He turned to leave.

He was again stopped by a hand on his arm, Claudia’s this time. “Dude, as a favor to us, to Myka, and to yourself, just stay here and mingle, as she instructed you to earlier.” Her eyes were twinkling, but her voice was serious when she said, “You wouldn’t want her mad, now, do you?”

Sam gulped. He did _not_ want the girl mad. Myka was known for her flaring temper when tried. And that temper… Well.

Claudia knew that she’d made her point, but just to make sure, she asked, “So, we clear?”

Sam nodded timidly. “Yeah, I suppose. I mean, you’re her friends, so if you think she’s gonna be okay…” he sighed. “I’ll just… mingle.”

The red-head nodded and watched as he ambled off to the dance floor. She almost felt sorry for him, with his shoulders slumped and head bowed.

Pete seemed to be mirroring her thoughts, for he said, “He looks like a kicked puppy.”

“That’s alright, he’ll get over it.” Steve spoke up.

They looked at him, their eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t you at least feel bad for him?” Pete asked.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Please. You said it before. Sam’s just _fascinated_ with Myka. He’s just one of those superficial brawny people who’d love having someone with a nice status and all that. Myka’s just like, a trophy for him. Who wouldn’t want the bragging rights to being a champion’s date and first dance at the Yule Ball, right?” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t waste time feeling bad for someone like him. Besides, it’s actually kinder this way. At least Myka didn’t shove her tongue down Helena’s throat in front of him…” he broke off when Claudia whimpered. “Sorry. I mean, it was so _obvious_ that she wanted to.”

“Woah, Jinksy,” Claudia breathed, “graphic descriptions aside, you are right.”

“Yeah,” Pete agreed. “You could get deep if you want too, huh?”

Steve smirked and winked at them, “Oh, you have no idea how _deep_ I can get.”

He laughed when they groaned at his words.

 

*****

The kiss was not what Helena had expected.

She had expected sparks to jolt through her body and warmth to flow through her veins and happiness to blast into her heart.

That’s not what she got.

It was really just a hint of lips touching lips, so gentle it was barely there, but even so, Helena got _much_ , much more.

The kiss was not what Helena had expected because she never could have imagined the explosion of sensations that such chaste contact could possibly create.

A surge of a thousand lightning bolts wreaked havoc through her body. A torrent of burning, smoldering lava coursed through her veins.

Helena felt happiness so acutely that she believed no dementor could ever suck it out of her.

When Myka pulled away, Helena still felt the aftershocks reverberating through her very being.

A ghost of a kiss, it was. A bite of the forbidden fruit.

And Helena wanted more.

One look at Myka’s face told her that she wanted more, too.

So Helena gently placed a hand on Myka’s nape and again closed the distance between them. This time, when their lips met, it was harder, more insistent, more demanding.

Helena moaned when Myka swiped her tongue over Helena’s lower lip, and then proceeded to gently tug it with her teeth. She wasn’t expecting the Gryffindor to be so forward, but she’s not complaining – it was all kinds of hot, as Pete would say. Her fingers tightened on soft chestnut hair as she opened her mouth in acquiesce, effectively deepening the kiss.

When their tongues met for the first time, it was like a volcano erupted in Helena’s heart. It shook her to her core and she gasped for air, breaking the contact. Myka, however, wouldn’t let her get away. She twined her arms around Helena’s neck and crushed their lips together, plunging her tongue again into velvet warmth, swallowing whatever Helena was going to say, exploring the latter’s mouth with tender swirls of scorching sweetness.

Helena took a moment to get over her initial surprise at Myka’s attack, but then she again felt the nimble muscle in her mouth, and she almost melted into a puddle. Myka kissed with vigor and innocence and passion… and Helena just wanted to devour her in her wholeness. So she wrapped her arms around Myka’s waist and drew her hard against her body. They both groaned at the feel of each other’s softness connecting, and they wanted to be closer.

Closer.

And closer still.

“Woah,” Helena breathed, when air became a necessity. She couldn’t formulate any more words.

“Hmmm,” Myka hummed. Their lips were still nearly touching, and Helena felt the vibrations of the sound. It sent pleasant shivers all over her body.

Myka pressed a final kiss before nuzzling Helena’s neck. “That was fun.”

Helena chuckled. “It was more than fun.” She ran her hands up and down Myka’s back, and was pleased at the soft sigh the woman exhaled.

After a few more minutes of basically cuddling, Myka pulled back, her eyebrows puckered. “Where does this leave us?” she asked, her voice laced with concern and hope and worry rolled into one.

Helena smiled at her softly, placing a finger to gently smooth out Myka’s frown. “Where do you want us to be?” she asked back, her tone tender and soothing.

Myka bit her lip, and it was all Helena could do not to ravish her again. Beautiful green eyes hesitantly met dark ones, before drifting away. “I…”

Helena felt Myka’s anxiety and nervousness. She placed a hand on Myka’s cheek and ran her thumb over her kiss-swollen lower lip. “Don’t worry Myka,” she said. “Just tell me, where do you want this to leave us?” Her own heart was pounding in her chest in a staccato beat.

 _What if she wanted to forget this_? _What if she said it’s a huge mistake and we’re better off enemies_? _What then_? _What if she’s not willing to give us a chance_?

 _Would I be able to take it_?

Helena was lost in her internal what-ifs that she didn’t notice when Myka shifted to sit on her lap and practically straddled her. She looked up at those swirling green eyes again and saw that the hesitation was replaced with raw emotion and honesty.

Myka’s voice was so soft it was barely heard. “Together,” she answered.

Helena had never been so happy to hear a single word. _Together_. _She’s_ _willing to give us a chance!_ her heart shouted.

She searched Myka’s face and she saw certainty, and sweet relief flooded through her system. Her lips tugged up into a delighted grin – oh, ‘delight’ hardly covered it – and said, “Together it is.”

 

And then they pressed their lips together for another lingering kiss.


	7. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s supposed to hate Myka Bering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *All recognizable characters and settings are not mine; they belong to their respective owners and are used here, not for any intention of copyright infringement, but for a bit of fun and adventure.

 

Myka Bering is everything Helena has ever dreamed of, the fulfillment of all her desires, the realization of all her dreams.

****

“Don’t be a bloody idiot.”

Helena levels an icy glare to the speaker.

Myka just raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I am not being an idiot,” Helena grits out.

“Yes, you are,” Myka argues. “You’re beating yourself up over something over which you have no control.”

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have tried _something_.”

Myka scoffs. “And what, get yourself killed?”

Helena doesn’t answer.

Myka sighs.

“This is not your fault.”

“Many would say otherwise.”

“Then they would be wrong.” Her tone is matter-of-fact.

Helena cannot understand how she can be so calm about all this. “You died, Myka.” The words taste bitter in her tongue – even now, with Myka standing _alive_ beside her. “You _died_ , and I didn’t do anything.” She meets Myka’s intense gaze, and there is anguish in her voice. “And in the face of danger I slinked into the Dark Lord’s embrace like the snake that I am instead of fighting back. I had your murderer so close to me and _I did nothing_.”

Everything about Helena screams of her self-hate and she turns away as if looking at Myka _pains_ her.

And it _does_ – because Myka is a reminder of Helena’s cowardice and worthlessness and darkness.

Myka is brave and precious and she is light.

Myka is everything that Helena is not.

“I don’t deserve you.” The words are spoken so softly Myka almost doesn’t hear them, but the agony in them might as well have been screamed. “I never did, and I never will.”

Myka reaches out to tenderly cup her cheek, making her meet those intense green eyes, and her touch is so gentle it makes Helena’s heart ache.

“I love you,” Myka says, simply.

And Helena breaks down then as her final defenses fall apart – amid the ruins of their school and the lifeless bodies of their peers, with grief and desperation and death hanging heavy in the air.

She breaks down.

 

And Myka holds her broken pieces together.

 

(It’s always been like this.

She’s damaged. She knows that.

And yet Myka holds her as if she’s the most valuable thing in the world.)

****

She’s supposed to hate Myka Bering.

But she fell in love with her instead.

( _And in a way she is still falling_.)

 

It’s the best thing that has ever happened to her.

 

( _Myka is brave and precious and she is light_.

 _Myka is everything that Helena needs_.

And she is everything that Helena wants.)

 

 


End file.
